Every Step You Take
by emmabirdy
Summary: When an unfortunate incident with a old chest lands Germany in the hospital with a head trauma, he begins to remember strange things about the past and who he may once have been. Based on the theory that Germany is actually the Holy Roman Empire. Eventual GerIta. Warning for character death.
1. Chapter 1

_Title: Every Step You Take_

_Pairing(s): Germany/N. Italy_

_Rating: T for some swearing, violence and possible alcohol._

Nobody knew that he remembered.

No, Prussia had always been careful about that topic. He'd become good, when Italy and his brother came to dinner together, at dragging it back to the taste of the food or another awesome story about his many successes that always earned him an eye-roll from Germany. The topic of Holy Rome would come up without fail, and he'd grown used to it.

But recently, it had been making him guilty.

It happened mostly at night in his bedroom. There was an old, slightly faded photograph sitting atop his dresser of everyone at Austria's house for a visit, some party ages ago. The picture was a gift from Hungary, shortly after Holy Rome's "death". Her lovely green eyes lingered in his, filled with sadness, while she spouted some crap like, "he was such a brave little boy," or "at least he died a glorious death". Prussia had wanted to say something comforting, but the words stuck in his throat and all he could choke out was a "thanks".

Everyone seemed pretty happy in the photograph, except for Austria of course, but it's the two smallest children that he fretted about. Holy Rome is standing next to Italy, blushing as per usual, but overall looking pretty content.

_He's really stupid_, thinks Prussia. _He can't even remember the love of his life._

It made him think about how he'd rescued Holy Rome. Still a little thing back then, beaten up, couldn't even remember his name. He was lucky Prussia had been walking by right at that moment or the small nation would've been a goner.

He looked after the still-childlike country, of course. It took months of tentative care for him to recover. One night, when his condition had finally begun to improve, he had walked into the kitchen in his oversized pajamas.

"Ah, Holy Rome!" Prussia had begun, looking up from whatever he'd been reading. "Is everything okay? Are you thirsty or something?"

"My name is Germany," the child had said definitively.

Everything changed after that brief conversation. The little black cape and gold-trimmed hat were gone; Germany wanted more "mature" clothes. His voice became harder and more set, and his accent was…different. The small guest room Prussia had given him was always much cleaner than even Prussia had ever kept it.

For years Prussia had been unsure of what to do. When France came to break the news that Holy Rome had vanished, everyone thought dear Holy Rome was dead. It caused him physical pain to think of how Italy had sobbed, cries of how he'd always promised to come back before Hungary carried him away. Austria too felt incredibly guilty, shaking his head and gripping the arm of his chair. Though Prussia wished he had not been visiting at that particular moment, he was grateful he hadn't been the one to bring the bad news.

Germany grew up and left with hardly a backwards glance to his foster brother. They talked on the phone occasionally, but Prussia was too "immature" and "irritating". He'd been ecstatic when Germany met Italy, hoping there might be some exciting remembrance like in a fairy tale. He supposed Germany had changed a lot spending time with his newfound friend, but when Italy would tell fond stories about Holy Rome over dinner, there would be no flash of recognition in Germany's face, no inclination for Italy to go on.

No, life went on like this, wars came and went.

Prussia's train of thought was interrupted as the black taxi slows to a stop at a traffic light.

_München Hospital: 2 kilometers._

Earlier that day, Prussia had been doing some paperwork at home when the phone had rung.

"Hello, the awesomest Prussia he-,"

"Prussia. I have serious news." Austria's voice sounded even more harried than usual.

"Did West screw something up?"

"He was cleaning out his attic, and-,"

"Not that it really needs any cleaning," Prussia said.

"Will you just be quiet and let me finish! He was cleaning out his attic, and something large fell on top of him. It was very lucky I was there."

"That's weird. He knows where everything is in his house."

"I don't remember quite what it was – oh, some kind of old chest or dresser. The wood was splintering so they are making sure he didn't get any infected wounds. It's locked so – hold on," Austria pulled the phone away and yelled something.

_Old chest_. Prussia's eyes widened in horror. Filled with panic, he yelled into his receiver: "It was locked? Was it green with some old paint on it?"

"Is it even relevant? Just get over to the München hospital as soon as you can!" Austria hung up the phone.

_This is all my fault, _Prussia thought. _Why did I ever put that chest up there? He'd never have remembered anyway._

There were a few flashing blue and red lights around the hospital as the taxi pulled up in front. Prussia threw the correct fare at the taxi driver and pulled open the door, almost falling onto the icy pavement in his haste.

"Get out of the way!" Prussia yelled, shoving people aside. "I need to see my brother!"

Finally finding his way to the door, he ran into the quiet lobby and tore up to the receptionists' desk. "I need to see We- Ludwig. Ludwig Beilschmidt."

The secretary's eyes moved lazily down to her computer. "That'll be under B, Be…"

"He's the patient that just came in. With all the ambulances and stuff outside." Prussia struggled to keep his voice even. The woman at the desk appeared not to have heard him and continued her slow search.

"THIS IS AN EMERGENCY!" Prussia yelled.

"I've got him," said a familiar voice, grabbing his arm. "Come _on_, Prussia."

Austria led the way down a sickly white corridor full of fluorescent lights. "The doctors say he will probably be fine," Austria said. "Even so, he will need to stay a while in the hospital."

"Does he look alright? Have they diagnosed him with any diseases? Tetanus?"

"God, Prussia, no," Austria said with a sigh. "He doesn't have anything serious. It's a minor concussion. He passed out and – well, you know Italy," said Austria. "He wouldn't leave your brother alone for a second. I called Hungary to tell her and she said she's on her way."

Prussia let out a breath of relief. _Now I'll just have to destroy that little chest of mementos before anyone notices._ However, Austria wasn't finished.

"The doctors are rather worried, though. He can't remember any of his childhood, or what we consider childhood anyway. Head trauma can cause amnesia, but they say it would usually apply to information learned in the past year, so they are baffled," Austria said. Adjusting his glasses, he turned on the albino and said "Did you know anything about this beforehand?"

Prussia froze midway through climbing a stair. "No, not at all. Westy never tells me anything, you know that." He gave a short nervous laugh, but Austria didn't seem to notice.

"Still…it is confusing. As I did not know him as a child, I could not say…" Austria frowned and tapped his arm impatiently. "I do wish this place had a piano."

The two nations lapsed into silence. Before long, they arrived in a quieter waiting room. "The doctor will tell us when we can see him," Austria said, gesturing for Prussia to sit down.

"Where's Italy?" Prussia asked.

His companion rolled his eyes. "He made such a fuss when they tried pry him off Germany that for the sake of the other patients in the ward, they just left him in the room. I think he's sleeping."

Prussia slumped into an upholstered chair next to the aristocratic nation. He knew well enough that while head trauma could make people forget things, it could also bring up long-lost memories.

_How am I going to get out of this one?_


	2. Chapter 2

It had been an ordinary day around Germany's house. Austria was sitting downstairs reading a book and Italy was making pizza, humming idly under his breath as he put the pie in the oven.

Craving company, Italy had remembered Germany saying something about cleaning his attic and skipped off to find him.

"Germany! Germany! Where are you?"

However, upon arriving at the top, Italy was greeted with a frightening sight.

Germany was pale and slumped backwards over an old-looking, green chest that looked like…his old toy box? Panic rose in Italy's throat. Hurrying over to Germany's side, he shook his friend frantically, but the blonde remained unconscious.

Italy screamed.

While trying to calm Italy down, Austria called an ambulance. "Come on, Italy, get in the taxi." Italy was sobbing onto the unconscious Germany's shirt and refusing point-blank to let go, so the paramedics finally allowed him to stay in the ambulance, being used to this sort of behavior.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Italy still had a vice grip on the blonde nation, and though having all but lost his voice; he shook his head violently at being asked to wait with Austria. Austria tried to pull him off of the stretcher, looking a bit like a parent trying to take a child away from candy. The paramedics joined in and eventually Italy was persuaded to get out.

"It'll be okay, Germany," Italy whispered hoarsely, running alongside the stretcher and holding his hand. Eventually, when he could run no longer, he let the tears come as he fell to his knees in the corridor.

The paramedics had to admit though they had seen many types of people in their time working at München hospital, none could quite compare with this determined friend (Lover? Relation?) of the newest patient.

"Italy. Italy?"

A blurry face appeared into the brunette's peripheral vision. _Austria?_

His second thought was to wonder why he was sleeping in his clothes, and then wonder why it was dark outside. With a start he remembered Germany and looked wildly around the hall.

"Italy, please get up. I will not have you sleeping in a hospital corridor. Think of all the germs."

"C-can we see Germany?" Italy whimpered.

Austria pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes. Let's go see him now."

"Germany!" Italy sniffled, finally permitted to see his friend.

His friend raised his head groggily at the shout.

"Italy?" said Germany.

"Oh Germany, I was so worried about you! I thought you'd-you'd…" Italy fought back the tears pricking at the back of his eyes.

"Wh-what happened?"

"I-I think a chest fell on your head when you were in the attic." Italy said.

"What the hell?" Germany muttered.

"Do you feel okay? I was really really worried about you!" Italy said, giving him a tight hug.

"I'm just a bit dizzy and sore. I've felt worse." Suddenly, Germany looked into the brunette's face and his eyes unfocused for a minute.

"Germany? Germany?" Said Italy in alarm. He shook his friend lightly.

Germany blushed and shook his head gently. "Sorry, Italy. It's nothing. Thank you for, uh…finding me."

"I'm really happy you're okay," said Italy, giving him a soft smile.

Just then, the door opened and Austria, Prussia and a doctor walked in. "You're awake! Thank god," Austria sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Prussia, however, was less easily reassured and hurried over to Germany's bedside.

"Bro! You're not looking too hot!"

The doctor stepped forward with a small brown clipboard.

"Now, Ludwig, you remember all of these people?"

"Yes. My brother Gilbert, and these are Roderich and Feliciano." He said, gesturing towards each of them in turn.

"How do you feel on a scale of one to ten?"

Germany winced. "Maybe a six?"

The doctor nodded and made a few notes on his paper. "Now, we need to test the impact of the accident on your early childhood memories. Who was your best friend when you were young?"

Germany's brow furrowed, as though he was trying to remember something just beyond his grasp. It reminded Italy of when Germany was trying not to become impatient with him.

His friend's face returned to normal. "Well, I believe my only friend was my brother," he said. "Though…I think there may have been someone else once…"

"Can you elaborate?" the doctor asked, tapping his foot. Italy thought Prussia looked nervous and had started shuffling his feet.

"I must have been quite young. My memory is not clear. That is all I can recall at the moment." Germany said.

The doctor's brow furrowed, and he scribbled something onto his clipboard. "Can you tell me of any other significant childhood events? Parties, schools?"

The patient shook his head definitively. "And you have no history of other head traumas?" the doctor asked.

"My brother says I got in a bit of fight when I was small," Germany said lightly. "I suppose it might be possible."

The doctor looked baffled. "Must've been quite the fight," Italy caught him mutter under his breath. "Very well," the doctor said, straightening. "I don't understand why or how you've lost your childhood memories, but I think you will be alright to go home in a day or two."

A few hours later, Hungary arrived at the hospital, apologizing that she hadn't been able to come until now. She and Italy sat in the waiting room with Austria, whom Hungary had convinced to eat something and then take a short nap in an empty room a few doors down.

"It was super scary, Miss Hungary," Italy said through a mouthful of cake. He felt a lot better after he had told Hungary of everything that had gone on since the accident and eaten a number of small pastries. The brunette stifled a yawn and glanced towards the room where Austria was currently resting.

"It's amazing how you made Austria go to sleep like that! He doesn't really listen to anyone else," Italy said.

Hungary smiled. "There was just no one else here to tell him to rest, I think. It's been quite the day."

"He wouldn't even listen to the doctor, though. I think he likes you, Miss Hungary!"

A light blush covered her cheeks and she hurriedly offered Italy another biscuit.

"Italy dear, I understand you are upset about all this, but I think you would feel better if you stopped wriggling around and tried to get some sleep."

Italy murmured an apology and attempted to lie still. Austria had been sleeping like a baby for a number of hours in the makeshift dormitory for the four nations. Prussia, after making a number of rude jokes and arguing with Hungary for what Italy thought could've been a solid half-hour, had also eventually drifted off to sleep. He was snoring rather loudly.

"Italy, is something bothering you?" Hungary's voice startled him a second time.

Italy rolled himself up in his blanket. "I'm just…worried. About Germany. He's been so strange lately…and why was my toy chest was in the attic?"

Italy could just make out a smile on Hungary's face through the darkness. "Germany will be just fine, I'm sure of it. And I don't know why your toy chest was up there, but…" she trailed off. "Well, it's not important."

"Okay." Italy sighed. Then he added, "Can you sing to me?"

"Of course," she said. Hungary began to hum. Italy didn't know what all of the words meant, the language was an ancient one, but the tune was still beautiful.

Italy eventually began to drift off. He dreamed of his childhood and the Holy Roman Empire. He'd had the dream before, but he still cried as his love turned to face him, smiled, then faded slowly away.

Author's notes: Sorry for the long delay in updating! Life unfortunately got in the way, my eyes were unfortunately not cooperating either (got glasses, finally, dear god). Thank you for all the favorites and follows too, lovey-notions!

As I forgot to mention these two dears in the first chapter, I would like to shout out first to **ChocolateTurnip** for being my fantastic beta-tester. Thanks for putting up with me ;) You make my writing at least a thousand times better.

Also, thanks to one of my famed "real life" friends, **snowydaystarlight**. Though she doesn't update her page much anymore on here, I would just like to say thank you! For listening to the somewhat awkward "So, I went against your wishes and watched Hetalia, and well, I like Hetalia" conversation, the subsequent ship discussion (I tried to play it so cool about liking your old OTP, but I'm really not that cool). Explaining this story to you and sending it to you as I sweated profusely and nearly strangled myself, and then telling me to go get up and write the rest. You're the reason it's here!


	3. Chapter 3

Prussia yawned and stretched. Glancing outside the hospital window, he noticed that the sun looked fairly high in the sky already, but Austria, Hungary and Italy all seemed to still be sleeping. Getting out of bed, Prussia took a minute to neaten up the blankets before tiptoeing around his companions to the door. He sighed, wishing they could always be this peaceful, then turned and slipped outside, closing the door with a soft _click_.

He walked over to a bored-looking receptionist. "Hey! Where could I get some breakfast food around here?"

The woman looked slightly incredulous. "Breakfast? It is nearly 12:30 in the afternoon."

"Sheesh! I slept longer than I thought. Well, whatever. I'm pretty hungry."

The receptionist frowned. "There is a café attached to the hospital on the bottom floor."

Prussia found his way down and selected a few sandwiches and a salad to bring back to his companions. Finally confronting the truth he'd been trying to push from his mind all morning, he let his mind wander to his brother. Was he going to ask Prussia about the mysterious 'someone else' of his memory? How would everyone else react? And to bring up the topic of the Holy Roman Empire was sure to be painful for everyone, especially Italy…there was certainly a reason why he'd kept such an unfortunate secret for so long. The elevator slowed to a halt on the fifth floor, and he dismissed his troublesome thoughts again. _I'll cross that bridge when I get to it._

The others had awakened when Prussia returned to their room. Italy was already awake and full of energy, complaining loudly about not being able to see Germany yet. Pulling over a desk from the back corner of the room, Prussia pushed two cots on either side of it and sat down at the makeshift table, gesturing for his companions to do the same.

They ate in silence, other than Italy's cheerful babble, for which Prussia was somewhat grateful, as it did not require him to speak at all.

"And one time Lovi was in the hospital with a broken arm, because he told Spain that he could climb the old tree in the yard faster, but he's actually really clumsy and he fell down! Lovi was screeching and Spain was crying and it was kind of loud but they had lemon gelato at the café! I think he liked it…" Prussia began to tune him out, wondering at how he could remain his silly self while the love of his life had just suffered a concussion.

Hungary looked dazed as she helped Prussia put the room back in order. Her hair was tangled at the end, and it curled up in odd places (not that it looked bad, but still).

"Cat got your tongue?" Prussia said. "I'm surprised you're not insulting me yet."

"Stuff it, Prussia. Some of us are clearly more worried about Germany than you are. You seemed to sleep sound and untroubled."

"Yeah, just like your boyfriend." Prussia promptly received a punch to the side of his head with a hiss, "He's not my boyfriend!"

"Anyway, Germany's dealt with shit like this before. He doesn't need the awesome me to worry about him."

"Rude," Hungary said, rolling her eyes. "You never mentioned him losing his childhood memories before, though. That sounds unusual to me."

Prussia shrugged. "Countries have weird…stuff happen to their minds sometimes. I don't remember my very first days."

"They weren't his _very first _days. He must've been older than that. What did you do, keep him locked up in your house?"

"He was severely injured when I found him! I couldn't let him run wild in the world," Prussia protested.

Hungary rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to critique your parenting, but –," their conversation was interrupted by Italy's excited shouts of "come on, guys, we have to go see Germany!"

On the way out the door, Hungary leaned over to speak to Prussia. "I do think you should check up with Germany sometime today. Bring Italy too; he and your brother are so close. Just the three of you." Prussia swallowed.

"I, uh, don't think that's really super necessary. I mean, like, you and Austria could be there too."

"Oh, that's okay, there are likely regulations on how many people can be in the room with a patient at once anyway."

"I think he'd appreciate you two visiting as well…Uh, I can always talk to the staff." Prussia stammered.

"Hold on a minute!" Hungary bent down to look for something. "Oh, Austria and Italy, you two go on ahead. I seem to have dropped something." She waved off Austria's offers to help her look for it, "Prussia can help me. I know you don't like all the germs!"

As soon as the others were out of earshot, Hungary stood up from the ground and turned to Prussia.

"What are you doing? There's nothing ther-,"

"Is there something wrong? You're acting pretty strangely today." Hungary looked at him with a mixture of confusion and concern.

When Prussia made no move to say anything, she continued, "Come on, I've known you for centuries! You were always bad at keeping secrets. If there's something you need to say, you should say it-,"

"There's nothing wrong. I'm just stressed out about Germany. I thought you would understand."

Hungary frowned. "Fine, if you don't want to tell me, I'll wait." She turned and jogged after the others.

"I'm not hiding anything!" Prussia yelled, but Hungary did not seem to hear.

Sighing, Prussia turned the other way and began to wander aimlessly. He couldn't bring himself to go see Germany just yet, and he wanted to at least have something ready to say to him when he did. Suddenly a crippling exhaustion overtook him. Grabbing the nearest wall, he keeled over and began to cough. His chest hurt like nothing he'd ever felt before, and he felt his vision beginning to swim. "Help," was all he could get out before everything went black.

"Hey. Gilbert. Wake up." Someone was shaking him. He opened his eyes to find himself back in the room they'd slept in. Hungary was standing next to him, along with a concerned-looking elderly woman.

"Dear, you're awake," the woman said. "Do you feel alright?"

"He must have collapsed due to stress," Hungary said. "His brother's been just been hospitalized for a concussion."

"Oh, you poor thing!"

"I'm fine," Prussia said weakly. Hungary refused to meet his gaze, and he sighed. Just then, his phone buzzed. Reaching into his pocket, he saw that he had a new message.

_[Francis]_

_We heard about Germany! Spain and I can come pay a visit if you'd like._

Flipping out his keyboard, he replied, _thats ok, lud's fine._

_[Francis]_

_Alright, mon cher. Make sure you remember our dinner arrangements for tomorrow night!_

Prussia put his phone away and sat up. "I feel pretty good now. Can I get up?"

"You sure you wouldn't like to rest some more?" the older woman asked.

"Nope, I have to be awesome about it and go see my brother!"

Hungary rolled her eyes as the woman continued to fuss over the albino. "He'll be fine. He's endured worse…"

When Hungary and Prussia finally managed to abandon the old lady, they walked back down the corridor to Germany's room. Hungary had taken out her phone and appeared to be texting someone while Prussia observed the carpet pattern. The silence was suffocating.

Upon entering Germany's room, the first thing they heard was Italy shushing them. "Germany's taking his siesta." He was gently stroking Germany's head. Austria seemed uncomfortable by this display of affection and was relieved to see the two newcomers.

"I'm going back to our room to get some books to read," he said, getting up from his chair. Hungary smiled. "I think I'll come too! I've got to grab a few things myself." The door clicked shut behind them as they departed, leaving Italy, Prussia, and the sleeping Germany.

Prussia seated himself in a chair beside his brother's bed and Italy smiled at him.

"Germany is nice when he's quiet and sleepy."

"Yeah, it at least means he's not yelling at anyone."

"I think Germany just yells when he doesn't know how to express his feelings," Italy said. "Like when he's nervous or something."

Prussia was taken aback. "Yeah, I guess you're probably right."

They still had time before Germany woke up. Prussia could still think over what he was going to say. He leaned back in his chair and listened to Italy hum softly, contemplating in silence.


	4. Chapter 4

Italy continued to pat Germany's head, smiling at the way his slightly messy hair fell across his face and rosy cheeks. His breathing was even. Italy hoped they'd release him soon – he missed the comforting familiarity of daily life, even if Germany could be a little demanding at times.

Germany's eyelids fluttered, and Italy tucked a final strand of hair behind Germany's ear before putting his hand back in his lap. His friend looked up and smiled at him.

"Hello," he said, voice thick with sleep. "Where did the others go?"

Prussia rolled his eyes and grinned. "The local lovebirds went back to "get something" if you know what I mean."

Germany shook his head and laughed, but it came out as more of a wheeze. The room was silent again.

"Do you want anything to eat?" Italy asked, swinging his legs.

Germany opened his mouth as though to say _no_, but Prussia jumped up and said, "Yeah, you must be hungry, bro! What about you, Italy? I saw Kinder eggs down there in the café. Have you ever had one of those? I have to get us some. They're pretty awesome."

Prussia dashed out the door, before either of his companions could say anything.

"That was weird," Germany said, after the door had slammed.

"Yeah…" Italy shrugged. "I've had them once or twice. I didn't think they were so amazing."

The two lapsed into silence. "Uh," Germany finally said, "I don't know if this is the right time to tell you this, but…I've been having some, uh, odd dreams since I hit my head."

"Really? What about? I hope you're not having scary nightmares or anything!"

"No, no, I'm sure it's not to be worried about," Germany said. He scratched his head nervously and was silent for a little while. "It's just that – well, you were in them."

Italy cocked his head. "It's nice to know that Germany thinks about me so much," at this the blonde reddened and began to splutter, "but what was I doing in them?"

Italy had never seen someone go quite that color. He mumbled something.

"Sorry?" Italy inquired.

"I-I said that you –," Germany began, but at that second Prussia burst back into the room, clutching a handful of chocolate eggs. Italy, for reasons he could fathom, felt a surge of jealous disappointment. He took the chocolate he was offered and unwrapped it in silence.

"So, how're you feeling, bro?"

"Better," Germany said. "They said they can release me this afternoon if I continue to be well."

"That's great news!" Italy piped. "We could go out to dinner to celebrate!" Germany winced, clearly thinking of their last failed dinner "date", of which he and Italy had promised not to speak of any further.

"It might be best if I went home. The dogs need to be fed." Italy pouted. "Well, perhaps it could be arranged for later…" Germany finished weakly.

"Could you tell me more about that fight I got in when I was little?" Germany asked after a while, turning to Prussia.

"Um, well, I don't really know. See, I found you right after it. I heard something that sounded like fighting nearby and then I hurried right over, and there was – well, you lying on the ground. You told me your name after, and I figured we must be related because we had the same last name."

"But I didn't remember what happened before that," Germany continued. "Now I can almost remember something about some war…but people never called me 'Germany', they called me something else. And…Italy was there, too. I could hear his voice."

"Your brain is probably making stuff up because it's confused." Prussia said.

Italy, meanwhile, had stopped eating his chocolate and looked with interest at the brothers. He hadn't known that many people when he was small – Austria, yes, and Hungary and Prussia as well…England, Spain, and France occasionally visited, but he hadn't really grown close to any of them. He certainly hadn't known Germany – he'd really only played with the Holy Roman Empire, and sometimes his brother when he was in a good mood.

He thought of his first friend and love. Italy used to miss him terribly, and he still did, but over time he'd come to accept that Holy Rome wasn't coming back, just like Grandpa. Having friends like Germany and Japan certainly helped, and now that he might be having feelings for someone else…Italy looked at Germany's face. He and Holy Rome had the same hair color, and pretty blue eyes. What if Holy Rome hadn't died? Would he have become Germany?

Italy stopped himself from thinking those thoughts. This was exactly why he still wasn't able to ever completely get over his death; he still hadn't given up foolishly hoping that he was still alive, waiting to come out and embrace him.

Prussia and Germany were still talking. "And I keep hearing these voices still! In my dreams! It's driving me crazy," Germany said.

"And you just need to relax. I can tell the doctor if you want."

Germany sighed. "Forget it, brother." Italy stood up. "You should rest," he said. "Prussia, you should be nicer to him. It's not nice when someone isn't feeling well."

Prussia was coughing. "Yeah, yeah," he said through his hand. "We're brothers, we fight."

Germany turned his head to the side. "Are you okay? You look a little paler than usual."

"Bah! I have no pigmentation." Prussia was taken over by more coughing. "I'll go get – others – bye." He left.

Japan had come to visit, and Austria and Hungary all took a turn checking in with Germany. Eventually the doctor shooed them all away, then checked him as well. The happy announcement was that Ludwig was free to go.

Japan said he would take a taxi back to Germany's house to visit, if that would not be intrusive, before flying home. Italy, Germany and Prussia all rode along. Hungary drove Austria home as well. A joyful Prussia was calling France and Spain and informing them that there was an "awesomeness party" that they needed to attend at his place.

Italy poked Germany in the arm. "Hey, what was that thing you were going to tell me earlier in the room?"

"Huh? Oh, that." Germany flushed again and mumbled. "It's not really important. Don't worry about it."

Italy pouted, which usually worked well to change his mind, but Germany remained silent budge.

At Germany's house, everyone pitched in a bit to help make a dinner. The atmosphere was light and cheerful as everyone chatted and baked into the evening. Prussia seemed to have stopped coughing, Germany seemed content, and Italy smiled and enjoyed everyone's company, forgetting his thoughts about Holy Rome for a while. Everything was good.

Until suddenly Germany began to fall, his face paralyzed in an expression of horror.

* * *

A/N: Got some fun cliffhangers for you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter - so fluffy...

QOTD: It's not super relevant, but does anybody want to take a guess at what Germany's remembering? It's probably not too much of a challenge...leave a review and let me know.


	5. Chapter 5

"You!" Germany shouted, but in a voice that was eerily not Germany's – it was too high. "You-you _murderer_!" He pointed at France with a trembling finger.

Germany grabbed onto the oven handle, beginning to sweat. Everyone stopped chopping vegetables or chatting and turned to him; concern, fear or confusion written plainly on their faces.

"Are you alright?" France answered, setting down his knife.

"You tried to kill me! Of course I'm not alright!" said the voice of not-Germany. Italy and Prussia moved quickly to help him.

Germany now began to mutter incomprehensibly. Prussia took his arm and Italy rubbed his back soothingly, gently moving him towards the living room couch. They laid him down and he seemed to be knocked out.

"Sorry, everyone, Germany's still not himself!" Prussia waved his arms around in a reassuring fashion, but unfortunately his friends did not seem terribly reassured. He walked over to his friends, where France stood, still looking upset.

"I am sorry to have agitated him so," France said, turning back to the carrots. Prussia thumped him on the back. "Hey, no sweat. Maybe he's still upset about WWII or something unawesome like that."

Italy came up and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Can I go get some medicine or something for him?" There was a slight tremor in his voice. Prussia turned around and his voice softened slightly.

"There isn't really anything we can do for Germany," he said. "The doctor would've said so otherwise. He just needs to rest and relax, and it'll all be fine."

"I-I'm really worried about him, though…" Italy looked like he might be on the verge of tears.

"If it makes you feel any better, you could pick up some painkillers at the pharmacy down the street. He might have a headache when he gets up." Prussia gave him a one-armed hug.

"You're not even a little teensy bit worried?"

Prussia released him from his embrace and sighed. "I really think he'll be just fine. There's just…well, there are things he can't quite remember, and he needs some time to himself to think them over."

Italy opened his mouth as if to say something else, then nodded and said, quietly, "I'll go get something." He walked across the kitchen and out the front door.

Prussia sighed again. He'd almost told Italy the whole truth right there. One voice in his head said, _why not? You can't tell Germany yet, but you could tell him._

But the other voice said, _no. He's worried enough already. What reason does Italy have to even believe you?_

It was chilling how much that voice sounded like Germany's, so Prussia decided to listen to it. Turning from the joyful party, he wandered to the living room to check on his brother.

He'd never been so tired in his life. He'd slept well the night before, but all Prussia wanted to do now was collapse into the plush chair and sleep some more. His thoughts spun in horrible circles, each time having a gruesome end for someone involved. He was so absorbed in these thoughts that he walked right into Germany, and his brother made a soft _oof _sound.

"Shit, sorry."

"'S all right." Germany, while seemingly back to normal, sounded like he had a hangover. He pushed himself into a sitting position. "What did I say to France again?"

"You called him a murderer," Prussia said. "He's cool, though. Your brain was probably just thinking about a world war."

"Um…when I was little, did France attack?"

"Uh," Prussia stopped. "Maybe? I don't really remember."

Germany furrowed his brow. "Can I ask you something else?"

"Sure, shoot."

Germany chewed on his lip. "This is really embarrassing, but I guess I would like – I mean, I could've – well, if I was drunk or something…"

Prussia grinned. He loved embarrassing stories. "Come on, don't leave me hanging!"

"Okay." Germany took a deep breath. "I dreamed that-," but he was cut off by a hacking cough coming from Prussia.

A now-familiar sense of panic came over his mind. It felt like he was being suffocated by his own body and he needed to get free, to get out, but he couldn't stop coughing and he wanted it all just to end.

"Brother, have you caught the flu? You've been coughing a lot. Here, I'll get the dinner and you go have a rest." Germany stood up and ushered him towards his room. Prussia protested but his cough was too bad to form words, and besides, he was really tired.

Prussia's coughs subsided as he settled into his bed, Gilbird fluttering down to lay beside him on his pillow.

"I'll get you some water and cough syrup." Germany turned as if to go, but then said, "Oh, one more question."

"Who's the Holy Roman Empire?"

* * *

Italy sat outside on the front stairs of Germany's house, shaking. He wanted so badly to help, but he just felt useless. He couldn't stop thinking about Holy Rome, couldn't stop thinking about Germany, and wanted to cry.

There was someone he could talk to, though. That was the agreement, after all – he would go to him if he had a problem. "That's the least a hero can do!" He'd said. "You've been a real help, Italy." He pulled out his phone with sweaty palms.

"America?"

"Huh? What's wrong?"

"I need that help you promised."

* * *

A/N: None of you have quite gotten the last chapter's question right, but it's making another appearance here, so why not leave a review and make another guess?

Another question: What do you think Italy helped the other member of the oblivious duo with? (What could Italy actually be good at?) Italy and America have some detective work to do next chapter. Stay tuned!


	6. Chapter 6

"Some help? Huh – oh yeah, now I remember!" America's sleepy drawl rumbled through the phone. Italy could practically see the dawning of realization on his face. "Sorry. I was just waking up, and I'm no good until I've had my coffee. What can I do for ya?"

"I just – I need somebody to talk to," Italy said, trying desperately to compose himself, "and Lovino probably won't help because it's about Germany, and Prussia is being weird and Hungary doesn't know I'm really s-scared," Italy tried to think of other people who could help him, but he realized none of them would actually care.

America's voice softened. "Hey, now. Calm down and tell me what your problem is."

Italy took a few deep breaths and swallowed the tears threatening to fall again. "Um, so, ever since Germany was in the hospital-,"

"Oh yeah! I think somebody told me about that! Is he okay?" A pause. "Uh, so go on."

It all came out in a jumbled mess. "Ever since he was in the hospital, he gets weird sometimes, like he spaces out randomly. Prussia is really evasive like he doesn't want to talk about it or do anything, but Germany can't remember anything from when he was little so I'm really worried and I want to help but I can't…" As he spoke, the wheels began to turn in his brain. Suddenly, his problem was making more sense.

America was quiet for a while. "It sounds like somebody's got the right piece to this puzzle," he said, "but they're not sharing it."

"You think somebody's not telling me something?"

"I think Prussia's got some answers. Wonder why he's hiding them, though…"

It did make sense. Prussia's nervous shuffling of feet, the general attempt to end any conversations having to do with Germany's memories…

"What do you think I should do, though? Prussia is usually nice to me and I don't want to make him angry or anything!"

"Well, you've got mafia, right?" America said. "Joking, joking. Why don't you just try asking him for the truth?"

"I tried that before. It didn't really work out…"

"Now that you've got the hero on your side, I'm sure he'll listen to you! Hey – idea! What if I flew into Germany, ASAP, and we have a little conversation with Mr. Awesome. I can just tell my work it's for some peace treaty we need to work out."

"But why would you even need a peace treaty, and wouldn't they -?"

"Glad you think it's a great idea too! Hold on, I'm getting dressed."

Italy shook his head, but smiled nonetheless. He certainly didn't like facing people on his own, but maybe it'd be easier with a friend.

"Calling my boss now, so I gotta go. I'll be here by tomorrow morning at the latest!" The line went dead.

Italy slid his cell phone back into his pocket and sighed. He didn't really feel like being at a party, but he did feel a little bit better, though talking to Prussia did sit at the back of mind uncomfortably.

He contented himself with thinking of him and America's "agreement". He liked saying that word in his head. It sounded important, and it was nice to be needed by someone.

It had started as a simple email:

Alfred F. Jones:

Re: help plz!

need romantic advice. i would ask france but hes kind of creepy about this stuff? ur supposed to be a romantic country right? can u help me?

thx italy!

Hero

Italy had responded with an Okay! I'll try! and exactly two minutes after he sent his email his phone rang.

America discussed a certain person who was under no circumstances to be mentioned to anyone or anything unless Italy wanted to be thrown off the Empire State Building, which he absolutely did not and was happy to promise in the affirmative. He gave America some somewhat obvious and easy to execute ideas to win over Person X, and America decided he was completely indebted to Italy for this small favor. Throughout all this, they'd become good friends.

Italy got to his feet and prepared to go back inside, feeling more cheerful already.

At that moment, the front door flew open and a rosy-cheeked Germany appeared. Italy perked up.

"Hi Germany! Are you feeling better? Is dinner ready yet? I'm-,"

"Italy," he said. "Prussia's bad. He's not responding. I think he might be really sick." The familiar tremor of fear in his voice now made an appearance in Germany's.

"C-can you come to the hospital with me?"

Only then did Italy notice the limp figure draped over Germany's back. It was without a doubt Prussia, but almost translucent with pallor. He looked…ghostly.

A/N: Sorry for such a short chapter! Next one will be longer, promise. Feel free to guess at America's secret love.


	7. Chapter 7

They got in Germany's car and for once in his life, Italy was permitted to drive. Germany draped Prussia's unconscious body across the backseat and then climbed up front, stealing fearful glances back at his brother. Italy shoved the keys into the ignition – forget the speed limit, getting Prussia to the hospital was clearly more important.

The car flew through street after street, barely slowing to make a turn. Italy glanced over at Germany, who was still watching Prussia. He slammed on the brakes at a red light, causing the car to lurch forward alarmingly, then finally spoke.

"It'll be okay."

"He's been getting sick so easily lately," Germany said. "Just little things – colds and stomach flu. I – I checked over the territory that used to be his but there's nothing..." here he stopped, blinking rapidly and swallowing.

Italy reached for Germany's hand over the glovebox. It was large and calloused, but at the same time because it was _Germany's_ hand, it didn't really matter how it felt.

"He'll be okay. We'll do everything we can for him." There was, of course, the unspoken question of _why_, why a strong and healthy country would suddenly have started to succumbing to little sicknesses, but Italy simply let go of the wheel to find a tissue to give to Germany before the light turned green again.

Italy fumbled with the radio for a while, eventually finding Vivaldi's winter concerto, than going back to holding Germany's hand.

"Better?" Italy asked after he had calmed down a little.

"Yes, thanks. I like this song a lot."

"Me too! It's not very happy but it sounds really cool. I wish I could play the violin just so I could play that."

"Yes. Could you please, uh, drive with both hands on the wheel." Italy reluctantly removed his hand from Germany's and focused on driving the streets of Munich.

* * *

Prussia made a desperate attempt to open his eyes. He could see Germany and Italy driving the car. When had they even gotten in? They were holding hands, though. Heh, that was nice. Prussia tried to smile slightly, but it was too difficult and he slipped into a hazy state of dreaming again.

When he awoke again, or thought he did, he saw Germania looking down on him. What the hell was going on? Grandpa gave him a small but gentle smile.

"I am sorry they had to take you." He said. His lips did not move as he spoke.

_Who's they?_ Prussia wondered, but he dismissed it as irrelevant.

"It'll be over soon. You really were kept around a long time." Germania shook his head, wearing his sad smile. "Rome and I…well, whoever's in charge around here certainly wasn't feeling merciful when they took us."

He felt a stab of cold fear as Germania faded. It was beginning to dawn on Prussia what he was talking about.

* * *

Italy had never imagined that he would have to visit a hospital twice in the same week. He helped carry Prussia inside the front doors. Some paramedics gestured at them and called in German, and Italy steeled himself for the worst. Fortunately, the people just brought them a stretcher and helped them settle Prussia into it, helping them to carry him away.

Italy and Germany sat down in the lobby with the red-upholstered chairs. Germany sighed.

"The visions are getting worse," Germany said quietly. "There is so much blood…and everyone calls me 'Holy Rome'."

Italy's brain short-circuited. "They call you _what_?"

"Holy Rome. I believe it was once a nation comprised-," he had to stop because Italy had grabbed onto his arms. His eyes were wide and wet.

"Holy Rome. Holy Rome. I did hear that right, didn't I?"

And suddenly, Germany's face melted into a gentle smile. "Italy!" He began to move closer and closer. A bright red flush flared across Italy's cheeks. And then…and then…

"Stop. Stop, just…" Italy pushed his face away, and suddenly Germany was back in the fluorescently lit lobby, far too close to Italy's face.

Italy let out a strangled sob. "Why? Why are you doing this to me? I'm going crazy. I'm hearing his voice again. God, I'm going crazy." Italy clutched his head. "Leave me alone!"

Before he knew what he was doing he was running, running away from Germany and the forgotten promise of a kiss.

But it was all wrong, and now he'd ruined everything forever. It was all his fault. He let himself cry until his throat was hoarse from sobbing and hugged his knees to his chest. He hoped with all his heart this was a dream; that he'd wake up and this horrible week would never have happened.

When his sobs became sniffles, he finally noticed his phone ringing in his pocket. The caller ID read _America_.

"Italy. I'm on the ground. Be at the be-lsh-whats house in ten."

Uh-oh, Italy had forgotten about this complication. "America, um, we're going to have to change our plans, uh, Prussia's actually in the hospital and I messed up so could you please wait?"

There was a long pause. "You've been crying again."

Italy said nothing.

"I'm coming to the goddamn hospital then. If those stupid krauts make you cry one more time, there's gonna be trouble. Hero's honor." America had his scary voice on, so Italy just swallowed a few times and tried to make an affirmative squeak.

He stood up and dusted himself off. Strength. He could overcome his fears. He wiped a hand rapidly over his face, then set off for the hospital. He could still set things right.

* * *

Prussia woke up in a white bed. There was an angry voice outside; a familiar one.

Who did it belong to, again? Hungary. The name hit him like a bolt of lightning. Yeah, that was it. The name brought up a strange longing in his heart and tears to his eyes, but he couldn't lift a hand to wipe them. There was a crashing sound, then her voice again, stronger this time. He could feel more tears running down his cheeks.

And she hugged him, for the first time in as long as he could remember.

* * *

A/N: Summer's coming to an end and so is this fic! Thanks to everyone who has been with this story every step it took :)


	8. Chapter 8

"Prussia? Prussia, please say something." She trembled in her seat by the bed. Machines beeped, saying things she wouldn't allow herself to understand.

"Please tell me you're still here, because you were really…really a good friend, and I don't want our last words to be an argument, because-," Hungary's voice cracked and she blinked rapidly. "…because even though we fought, I…have never regretted meeting you, Prussia."

She wasn't going to cry. Hungary quickly wiped her sleeve across her face.

The figure on the bed let out a ragged cough. "Hungary." The name was pronounced very slowly, each syllable accentuated. A single tear slid down the pale face.

"Prussia! H-how are you feeling?" This was, she knew, a silly question for someone lying in a hospital struggling to speak. It was the only thing she could think of, as if her mind had gone blank.

"Not…not the best." He wheezed, and attempted to smile.

"Don't waste your breath. Here, let me fix your pillows for you. I really thought those doctors outside were quite rude-,"

"Hungary." Prussia's voice rose above her chatter. "I have…to tell you something…important. You might hate me."

"Okay. D-don't overexert yourself."

"When I found Germany…a long time ago, he was not…West, as we know him." Prussia took a shaking breath. "That…was my first lie to you."

"Yes, he was – it looks like you know already." Hungary's eyes were wide.

"How could you do this?" she whispered. "To Italy? To Austria and I? He was the son we could never have. You let us think he'd _died_?"

Prussia winced. "I knew you'd hate me for it." He closed his eyes for a moment. "But…I had to be careful."

"Careful of what?"

"When I used to say…Holy Rome, West…would get paralyzed. His eyes got wide. It was..." Prussia struggled for air. He coughed. Hungary held his hand.

"Don't talk any more." Her tears fell freely now.

"Will…you still hate me…when I've gone?"

"No. I don't hate you. You're still…my friend."

"Then…see you later, Hungary. I love you." His shaky breathing became a sigh, and his eyes slid shut, a peaceful smile on his face.

* * *

"Italy? Italy!" Germany's yells echoed through the street. Guilt weighed heavily on his heart. What had he been _thinking_? That wasn't where one was supposed to kiss one's crush. There was supposed to be a candlelit dinner, or moonlit walk in the park – Germany shook himself from his thoughts. He needed to find Italy _now_.

His mind had another idea, though. Suddenly he was thrown into another awful vision. There was blood everywhere again. "Holy Rome! Oh my God," it was Prussia, he thought. Germany wanted to respond and say he was okay, but everything was a mess and his voice wouldn't work. The vision faded.

He was almost immediately in the new vision. Facing an army led by France, a smaller version of him cowered before them. His entire body ached. The few men he still had behind him were injured.

"The Holy Roman Empire." France's voice dripped with contempt. "What a majestic display." He sneered. "Why not give up now?"

He contemplated. He was so, so tired, and his land had been almost completely ravaged by this point. What was he even fighting for?

"Are you ready to come with me, little boy?"

"No." Came his answer. "Because…I'm going back to Italy. And Hungary and Austria and everyone! I don't want to look like a coward." He tried to smile.

The blade of the sword glinted in the sun as it came down on his head.

Germany liked the next vision a lot. It was a familiar one, with a younger Italy and a younger himself. Italy cried. He gave Holy Rome a push broom to remember him by, and he was about to give him a kiss, one last one before he left on a long, long journey...

And suddenly Germany wrenched his consciousness from the placid vision and realized he was lying on the sidewalk. He knew what was in the chest in his attic.

* * *

Italy was hopelessly lost. He realized he probably shouldn't have dashed quite so far from the hospital. How long had he been out here? Snow was beginning to fall, swirling in the wind. His cell phone was dead.

Of all things, laughter was the first thing that bubbled in his throat. He laughed so hard that tears stung his eyes, at his own misfortune, at the silly drama that had led him all the way out here. Shaking his head, Italy turned back the way he'd thought he'd come and began to whistle.

He suddenly was aware of three cries of "_Italy!_" They were a ways off, but not too far, and he could just about decipher that they were Germany's, America's and Hungary's.

He broke into a run.

* * *

A/N: Only one more chapter! Hope you'll all stay tuned for the (hopefully thrilling) resolution...


	9. Chapter 9

The sky was black. Italy ran across the icy ground, heart racing. He tried to laugh away his fear again, but his giggles came out more like squeaks. Instead, he focused on figuring out what he was going to say to his friends. Friends. He hoped that everyone was okay.

But when he stopped in front of the three nations, he could see that everyone was definitely not okay. Germany and Hungary both looked like they were doing everything they possibly could not to cry. America stood to the side, looking somber.

"Germany? Guys? What's going on?" Italy said. He looked at each of them in turn.

"Italy," Hungary took a deep breath. "Prussia's – gone."

Italy pulled her into a tight hug as she began to cry, rubbing her back and whispering _I'm so sorry _over and over again_._ Before long he felt like crying himself, but did his best to hold it in.

"At least he – was with Eliza – I'm glad it was quick too." Germany let out a deep sob. Italy hurried to give him a hug next.

"I'm sorry about everything," he said. "I'm really, really sorry."

Germany's broad shoulders shook. It was the first time Italy had ever truly seen him cry.

"I feel like a screw-up," America whispered as they sat in the hospital lobby again. "Sorry I showed up at such a bad time."

"It's fine." Italy's response was flat.

Austria was speaking rapidly with a doctor in the corner of the room.

"Sir, there was no one in that room." Italy heard the doctor say.

"There most certainly was! An excellent friend of mine!"

"What did you say his name was, again?"

"Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt." Austria sounded near hysterical. The doctor disappeared behind a counter for a few minutes, than reappeared, shaking his head.

"We haven't had anyone by that name recently. Are you sure it wasn't Ludwig Beilschmidt?"

"I'm sure."

"Sorry, sir. I hope this miscommunication can be solved. Would you like the names of other hospitals in the area?"

"No, no." Austria inhaled deeply. "It's fine."

* * *

Taxis were arranged. America, Austria and Hungary were able to book hotel rooms nearby. Italy and Germany got back in the car.

They rode without music. Italy's driving, for once, was decent; he stopped at all the signs and drove at a reasonable pace until city streets began to turn into country roads.

"Do you need any help navigating?" Germany finally said after a while. He was finding hard to wrap his head around the idea of a house without Prussia. A house where he'd never hear trashy pop music and an off-key voice singing along. A house where Gilbird wouldn't be seemingly everywhere at once. The thought of it was almost unbearable.

"We're not going home just yet." Italy's voice was quiet but firm. "There's somewhere we need to be first. Go to sleep if you like."

He kept on driving until they reached a grassy field. Italy shut off the car and stepped outside while Germany slept soundly on the passenger side. The snow was beginning to stop.

Italy could feel the cool white stones under his feet that had made up a walkway so many years ago. Weeds grew in every crack now. A decorative arch leading into an overgrown garden still held many of its original baroque carvings, but the marble crumbled. The enormous whitewashed house, though, still seemed regal even in its state of disrepair.

Italy opened the car door again and leaned over to give Germany a soft kiss on the cheek. His eyes fluttered open and Italy giggled.

"Sorry to wake you, but we're here."

"Where's that?" Germany asked, wiping his eyes.

"Come and see."

Germany got out of the car and looked around at the ancient house, the decorative fountains and finally, at the little white archway.

And then he understood. Tears sprang to his eyes once again. "I remembered," he said hoarsely. "That was what I needed to tell you – in that chest, everything is in that chest and your push-broom – Prussia,"

He was cut off by Italy running to embrace him. They cried together, for Prussia, for so many years of forgetting and painful memories.

They held each other until there were no more tears left to cry, rocking gently back and forth under the sea of stars.

"I'm sorry," Italy said. "I know it was selfish to come right – right after Prussia."

"It's okay."

Italy smiled shyly at him. "Are you going to kiss me now?"

"Do you – do you want me to?"

"You _promised_."

Germany gave him a smile and leaned in to meet Italy. "I know." His lips were slightly chapped from the wind and cold, but gentle and firm on Italy's. The kiss was soft and slow, and he thought it felt like being warmed from a flickering fire.

When they finally broke apart, rather flushed, Italy gave him a quick hug and then skipped off. Germany stared after him, slightly confused and a little dizzy.

When Italy had found a broken piece of the white walkway that was just small enough for him to be able to carry it, he picked it up and carried it over to one side of Austria's old house. Germany followed him.

"Since Prussia can't really have a proper funeral, how about we honor his memory here?"

Germany lowered his head and nodded. "He always liked the blue cornflowers. Maybe we could pick him some when summer comes." They placed the piece of semi-polished stone in a clear patch of ground.

"Maybe he can have a better grave sometime." Italy said when they had finished.

Germany gave him a watery smile. "I think he'd be very happy right here."

And they walked away, hand in hand, and headed for home. Everything was different – Italy knew that. But he also knew, in the end, that as long as he and Germany were together, everything was going to be alright.

* * *

A/N: And...it's over! Thank you so much to all my reviewers, favorite-ers, and just readers period. You guys give me serious warm fuzzies. I love you all so much I might write an epilogue to this later.

Another ENORMOUS thank you to **ChocolateTurnip**!

Bye for now,

The Bird/Dragon


	10. Epilogue

Italy skipped along the sidewalk, humming softly and clutching his little present – a bottle of wine and a bunch of roses. It was such a beautiful summer's day here, only sweetened by Germany asking him out to dinner again. And Austria and Hungary were going to drop by for a visit, too! Italy laughed with joy.

"Hiya, Luddy!" Italy waved cheerfully at his boyfriend across the street. Germany was walking his dogs, but looked up to give him a small smile and a wave. Italy jogged across the street to meet them, wrapping his arms around Ludwig's neck and giving him a quick kiss.

"How have you been?" Germany's voice was a pleasant rumble above the excited barking of the German shepards.

"Pretty good, except that I missed you! I spent some time with America and his boyfriend last month. Oh, and I saw Greece again! And did I ever tell you that one of his cats had babies? He gave me a kitten! He's all white and he has a little scar over one of his eyes."

"That's nice. Did you name him?"

"Yeah." Italy said. "I named him Gil."

Germany smiled. "I'm sure Prussia would approve," he said, taking Italy's hand and guiding him inside his house.

After Italy and Germany had kissed for a while, cuddled, tried to make dinner, and kissed some more, Austria and Hungary arrived. Greetings were exchanged, and they all sat down to dinner.

They chatted about insignificant things, Italy dominating ninety-percent of the conversation, until Hungary finally let out a small laugh.

"Sorry," she said, "but it's just like they say: some things never change. It just feels exactly like it did so many centuries ago."

Austria smiled too. "It's nice to see that our 'son' has grown up so well."

"Now we're the senile, bickering old couple. Your love is still beautiful and fresh!" Hungary giggled. Austria turned slightly pink.

"Wait, are you guys together again?" Italy asked.

Austria cleared his throat. "I-it was just a few dates."

"That's great, guys!" Italy grinned at them. They both averted their eyes somewhat bashfully.

"Its too bad Gilbert isn't here. I bet he'd think it was pretty awesome that we're all together again." Hungary sighed.

"Actually, about that…" Austria spoke up. "I was wondering if we could go visit the grave you two made for Prussia."

"The cornflowers are in bloom," Italy caught Germany murmur to himself.

He smiled. "That sounds like a great idea!"

Beside the old house, the four picked small bunches of blue flowers. Each stepped forward in turn to place the flowers next to the stone. It seemed to glow in the bright sunshine.

As Italy stepped forward, he began to speak quietly.

"Prussia, I'm a little bit sad that you never told us who Germany actually was until you were dying. But…on the other hand, I got to fall in love with him again. And I don't feel guilty about loving two people anymore, because even though Germany is different than he used to be…I still love him. Just as much as I used to. So, thanks for that, Prussia."

"And I wish you were here, because every time someone says 'awesome' it makes me sad, because I'll never hear your voice say it again, and…and," Italy turned back to his friends.

"And we all miss you, Gilbert." Austria reached out an arm to Hungary, but she pushed it away. "But…I know we'll see you again. This isn't goodbye." She smiled, through tears, up at the sky. "We'll see you again someday."

"Even if you weren't my real big brother, you were always there for me," Germany said. "Thank you, Prussia."

"We had our bad days…but you were really a caring friend. Thank you." Austria took off his glasses and blinked rapidly at the ground.

Italy turned from the grave. "Let's go home now." Nobody could do anything but nod, and they walked without saying anything back to the car.

A breeze blew by Italy's ear. It seemed to whisper, _Thank you_. He shook his head and wiped away another tear beginning to form. _Take care of Germany, please_. Italy whirled around, and for a split second, Prussia smiled down at him and nodded. Then he was gone.


End file.
